In Times of War
by SlytherclawQueen
Summary: He stood before her, crimson eyes gleaming with secrets untold, lips upturned as he dropped the cloak revealing his true face. "Join me Lady Firebird, and watch as we shape the world into a better future for our kind." What else did Ginny have to lose? Besides her soul that is...AU.
1. Chapter 1

**AU. Will be a Ginny and Voldemort story. Review if you would like for me to continue.**

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When he had seen her on the battlefield for the first time he knew exactly what she was, _who_ she was. He had stared what felt like an eternity, his eyes examining every detail of her. She moved like a dancer, elegant and powerful as curses light and dark left her wand with more precision than he expected a nineteen-year-old child to possess.

Yet she manipulated a fiendfyer like she was born to control the uncontrollable and took out his Death Eaters, her long red hair swirling around her and intermingling with the flames without once catching fire.

It was exhilarating to watch the young witch and see how she glowed, loving every bit of the chaos surrounding her. She was a warrior through and through and didn't fit the mold that were the Weasley's.

Yes, she had their fair skin, brown eyes, and red hair, but the more he watched her the more he saw the youngest of the family was very much different in everything from appearance, to magic, to values and aspirations.

For example, her hair was darker and in the light of the fiendfyer looked like fire itself. Her skin, while pale like her family's, had not one freckle marring it. Her frame was tall and muscled from fighting and training while her comrades...well, they were certainly soft around the edges. Her eyes were a bright brown, nothing unique, but the fury in them was unusual for a witch that was supposed to be light.

Each curse she cast, she meant it with every bone in her body.

Now her magic, while she was physically quite appealing, her magic was what he found to be most enthralling. It was wild, dangerous, seductive; she was powerful and a natural born leader that was forced to be a follower. He could see clearly that she was no light witch. She was dark, a concept that those who claimed to be light refused to understand and instead shunned.

Dark didn't mean _evil_. If the Ministry didn't ban the old books than these fools would know what dark magic truly meant.

It meant power, freedom; the dark arts were based off freewill and emotion, something that the Ministry viewed as a threat because **It. Can't. Be. Controlled**. And if something can't be controlled and didn't fit the mold than it was a threat. Simple.

But young Ginevra Weasley, in the midst of battle, used dark magic like it was the most natural thing in the world because _that's_ what came easy to her.

She could use stupefy and stun all her enemy's and then allow the other Aurors to round them up and throw them in Azkaban, but you would risk them coming to and coming back to kill you and your comrades.

Instead she used the Ignis Dolor curse, a curse meant to boil you from the inside out and was known to be one of the most painful curses in existence. She could simply just kill her foes but instead she left them to suffer, completely undisturbed by their screams.

Tom Riddle, mostly known as Lord Voldemort, was interested in another for the first time in fifty years. He would have her on his side before the war was through, and if she refused to be honest with herself than he would have no choice but to cut her down.

He hoped it didn't come to that. She showed promise like no other he had seen before.

Red eyes gleaming like blood looked around the battlefield, a smile flickering on the face he kept hidden behind his hood. His Death Eaters had made a dent in their forces but now it was time to draw back and regroup. But not without some parting words.

He let his magic loose, the magical bind breaking and sweeping across the field like a tsunami. He watched as everyone stilled and turned towards him, his Death Eaters even dropping into a bow.

His eyes, hidden behind his cloak, scanned the crowd with careful scrutiny. He was pleased to see his Death Eaters didn't have nearly as many casualties. Of course with the Ministry's brainwashing and lack of unity it was only time before the _Light_ side were overthrown, but he would try to show them truth until that day.

He _would_ win and sooner or later they will see. All in good time.

"My fellow witches and wizards, we stand here enemy's because the Ministry has led you astray all these years, feeding false facts to you about the wizarding world. I do not wish to harm any of you, rather you be pureblood or muggleborn. I wish to spread truth and knowledge, I wish to free magic from the chains our beloved Ministry has put her in because they fear that magic. They fear it because they can't control it, and if it can't be controlled, well then, it must be evil!" At that he let out a low chuckle, his Death Eaters crackling with him at the inside joke.

His eyes scanned the crowd again, taking in the angry faces and also the questioning ones. He will sway whoever he could using nothing but the truth bathed in manipulative words, but loyalty was what stopped them from acting on their thoughts.

War is the only way, he knew, but he hated all the magical blood needlessly being spilled.

His eyes landed on the youngest Weasley, otherwise known on the battlefield as Lady Firebird. She stood tall and proud, even with his magic pressing down on her. She was coated in blood from head to toe. It was truly a vision to behold even with her eyes staring at him with suppressed rage.

He could also see the trembling of her body while slight and the rapid rise and fall of her chest. She was tired, weakened.

He wrapped his magic around her, letting her feel and taste true power, true unbound magic.

Her mouth parted, eyes glazing as her magic tentatively brush back. It was a natural instinct, one that showed her magic was just as drawn to his.

That very much pleased him.

The smile under his hood would have surely put his followers on their death beds from a heart attack if his face wasn't covered.

"I understand your loyalty and the need to do what is right. Going against your authority's is against what you were taught, but how do you think we got away from Kings and formed a court to balance out power? It's time for a revolution, it's time to stand united and bring back the old ways banned by the Ministry. Each generation is weaker, more squibs are being born, together we can put a stop to that. Don't be afraid to stand against your supposed higher-ups who are draining magic without remorse. Come with me and I will free you."

He allowed his words to linger in the air a moment and watched as a light flickered in some of the survivors eyes.

"You follow a mad man, a man drunk from power and desperate to keep it. You follow him without question and while that kind of loyalty is admirable, I will ask for you to question it. To look around and think for yourself. He says I am a mass murder, that I hate muggleborns, that I am a monster. But each and every time I give you a chance to join me, to see past the fog blinding you from the truth. It's not too late to open your minds. I speak to purebloods, halfbloods, muggleborns and creatures of all kinds. You will not be shunned or enslaved. You will be freed."

With his cue his Death Eaters began to silently apparate away from the bloodstained field. Voldemort scanned the field one last time before he allowed his magic to swirl around everyone left, making them tremble with the knowledge that he could crush them all.

If he were the being the Ministry claimed than he surely would have.

With one last look at the well known Lady Firebird he to apparated away, leaving behind a group of confused witches and wizards.

Among those there were some who agreed with the Dark Lord Voldemort's vision. How could they not after feeling his magic, after feeling the power and tasting the pure seduction of it?

It was only a matter of time until the war met its end and a winner was declared. On that day the Light side lost half their forces. It was already over.

~~~W~~~

He paced back and forth, the others in the tent watching him wearily as their leader mumbled angrily under his breath. Half, he lost HALF of his men to that _thing_. He refused to think of Voldemort as a living creature.

How had this happened? The Light was winning, what went wrong?  
 _  
He was letting you think you were winning. He was playing with you._

Just the thought was enough to fill him with rage, his round face going beat red as he spun to look at Kingsley Shacklebolt, his second in command. The man was tall and dark, his poise and ability to strategize the main reason the short tempered Minister appointed him to be in charge.

He was a politician not an Auror. He knew very little about war strategy.

"How?" he spat after a moment of staring into Shacklebolt's unflinching dark eyes.

"They were overpowered Minister. We've lost too many already and if we don't change strategy than we will lose."

If possible his face became even redder, steam nearly coming from his ears in his rage. They were trying to overthrow him, he refused to have them succeed. They were nothing more than thugs, _dark_ creatures; surely if they were in charge it would be the extinction of them all.

"How many that went were unaccounted for?" he merely whispered, the fear hitting him hard as the reality sunk in.

They, the Light, were losing.

At this Shacklebolt seemed to hesitate as he looked the Minister over, checking his mental stability. "Three hundred went into battle, one hundred and seven were found dead, fifty were unaccounted for. Only one hundred and forty-three returned though half of them are fatally wounded."

The air he sucked in tasted sour and burned his lungs. "Merlin," he whispered, unadulterated fear twisting up his aged face even more.

"Cornelius, we can't continue like this. Perhaps we should think about the possibility of striking some kind of compromise with Dumble..."

"No!" the Minister interrupted, his dark eyes narrowing on the taller man.

"Minister, please," Shacklebolt tried again but Cornelius Fudge was a proud man, a man that refused to back down and give up his place of power. He was beyond reason, beyond seeing the truth that quickly became their reality.

Yes, he knew they were currently losing but they needed more men, more fire power. Voldemort will meet his end and the Ministry will continue as it always had. Without _his_ help.

"Minister, we currently have medics taking care of the wounded. We just need time to regroup and plan our next step. "

All eyes turned towards Alastor Moody. He was a famous dark wizard catcher in his prime, but now due to his scarred body and mechanical eye he mainly helped Shacklebolt and left the fighting to the younger generation.

No one hated dark wizards more than Moody.

"Yes of course," the Minister said, somewhat calmer though anyone would see he was near hysterics.

Shacklebolt and Moody exchange glances though the Minister didn't notice.

"I trust the two of you need to come up with a plan to stop those evil bastards from gaining ground and anymore followers. If we have traders in our midst I want them found. Keep me updated," the stout man ordered before he apparated away from the war taking place.

"He's lost his marbles," Moody grumbled before he took a slip out of his flask.

Shacklebolt sighed. "I know, but he's not wrong. We can't give in. Voldemort is always ahead of us so there must be someone passing him information. I'm going to form the other Order Members so they can keep a look out on all the recruits for traders and then we can come up with a plan."

Shacklebolt turned his back on his long time friend, missing the wicked smirk and the flash of amusement in his one good eye.

Trader indeed.

~~~W~~~

She was coated in so much blood that you could hardly see the white of her skin anymore. It was on her hands, face, clothes; it was even caked in her long hair. With a tired sigh she continued to the next patient, foregoing treatment herself and instead helping others in worst conditions.

"Ginny dear, please go clean up and rest. I'll have Hermione come and check on your wounds later. You look exhausted."

Ginny looked up, meeting her mothers worried gaze. She had been awake for over forty-eight hours and felt absolutely disgusting, but how could she rest when her comrades were bleeding out on the tent floor? How could she close her eyes and not see anything else?

Her mother frowned at her then, her matching brown eyes reflecting how tired she also was. Hell, they were all tired. Such was war.

"Go Ginevra, we can handle things here," her mother ordered.

If there was one thing well known about Molly Weasley it was not to cross her. Ginny sighed and nodded before wishing her mother luck and leaving the tent. She walked through the campsite, nodding at some of the recruits she went to Hogwarts with.

She felt her heart drop at what she saw a little ways away. She tried to not look but her heart demanded that she stare until it finally decided to break. She may have been bruised, bloody and exhausted but she refused to _break_.

Not even for Harry Potter, the supposed savior for the Light.

She straightened her spine, blinked away the moister in her eyes and continued forth like the soldier she was. Closer and closer she came until blue turned and settled on her ghastly frame.

The girl ran towards her then, out of Harry's arms with nothing but concern on her face. Somehow that hurt Ginny more than anything else.

"Hello Luna," Ginny said evenly.

"Ginny, are you okay? I don't see any Kicklelopes but you can never be too sure."

The red head didn't even bat a lash at the girls strangeness. "I'm fine, thank you for asking Luna. I'm going to go wash up and take a nap."

Ginny didn't even wait for a reply as she kept on walking, not even looking at Harry once and missing the worry and uncertainty in his eyes.

Her mind was blank as she reached the lake and stripped off her stained clothes, wincing when she had to peel it off a wounded area on her side. With a sigh she slowly stepped into the water, her face towards the night sky.

With a groan she sunk into the cool water and closed her eyes, expanding her magic so that she would still feel if someone was near.

Harry and Luna. How in the hell had that happened?

With a shuttering breath she calmed her heart. It was something she hated to think about but knew she needed to wrap her mind around thus she snap and lost her cool in front of everyone. Harry didn't love her no matter how much she loved him and that was okay.

They were together and things were wonderful but then she blinked and he was gone, Luna, her best friend, hugging his arm and him looking at her in a way he _never_ looked at Ginny.

Was it her looks? Luna was small, petite, blonde and beautiful. Ginny was always more of a tomboy but she was still attractive in her own right. Harry had told her she was beautiful countless of times.

No, she didn't think it had anything to do with how she looked.

Perhaps it was her personality then.

Luna was soft, mild-tempered, and instead of fighting on the front lines decided to spend her time making potions and helping the medics. She depended on Harry, supported Harry, took care of Harry.

Ginny on the other hand...well she was temperamental, deadly and thrived out on the front lines where death could come any minute. She didn't need any one to protect her and fought beside Harry in countless battles. She didn't nurture him but she watched his back with a brutality that screamed of how much she cared for him.

Was that the problem? Did Harry want someone _he_ could take care of and would depend on _him_? Was Ginny too argumentative, too stubborn, too independent?

Was she not delicate enough?

Ginny scoffed at that. She was coated in blood, most not even her own. Of course she wasn't _delicate_. She fought for what she believed in...but the funny thing was she didn't fight for Harry. No, she found out about Luna and she didn't even scream.

She merely nodded and told him that it was okay. They were in war and time was limited. She let him go and while she internally flinched every time she kept her mask so tight in place that not even Ron knew she still loved Harry.

And it killed her every day.

When she was in battle those feeling went away. She was powerful, in control and yet wild. Something took over her, something dark and primal. She felt like nothing could reach her.

 _Come with me and I will free you._

She allowed herself to shiver, her magic rippling in response. His voice was disarmingly soft and yet seemed to cut through like a razor blade, the deep tenor carrying throughout the whole field without strain.

And his _magic_ , Merlin his magic was...alluring! She had never felt anything like it before. She couldn't help but to wonder what he looked like beneath his cloak that he always wore. Why did he choose to keep his face and true name hidden?

Was he really a monster out to threaten all muggles and muggleborns or was he doing as he claimed, trying to free magic and speak truth?

Ginny knew she wasn't as light as Harry, Luna, and even her own family. She killed her adversary's without any mercy when others tried to keep the casualties down. Her squad leader Tonks had noticed of course but winning was more important than the spells used to get there.

Ginny knew all sorts of spells she shouldn't and in battle she could use them without getting noticed or caught.

 _They fear it because they can't control it, and if it can't be controlled, well then, it must be evil._

Was that what they would see her as, evil? Hell, maybe that was why Harry cheated on her with Luna. He had fought beside her after all and she became a whole new person in battle.

Her conflict was clear in her eyes when she finally opened them. She was confused about what was right and what was wrong. She had seen her side do some questionable things all in the name of Light.

They rejected werewolves, veela, anything that wasn't like _them_.

Voldemort however is accepting everything magical no matter how different. He says he wants them all to be equal and that may be true.

But what stopped Ginny from joining him despite how her whole body shook when his magic wrapped around her like a warm blanket was what he planned to do with himself. Would he step down and let a new court rise or would _he_ rule supreme?

A loud bang snapped her from her thoughts and faster than her mind could comprehend she was out of the water in a pair of conjured clean clothes and was running full speed back to the campsite.

Seconds later curses were coming from her wand, her mind clearing as a fire of delight erupted from her magical core. This was what made her smile, what made her blood sing. With each curse she felt her worry's disappear a little bit more.

Death Eaters were all around her, it was all she could see. And then she began screaming in pain, her magic ripping at her insides and attacking _her_ instead. It was excruciating, mind numbing.

And then she was restrained.

It took her a moment to realize what was going on as she was pushed down to her knees, her face shoved into the dirt.

"I hereby arrest you in the name of the Ministry with the accusation of being a Dark witch. You will be questioned on your relations with Voldemort and then you will live out your days in Azkaban."

Ginny tried to flare her magic but a high scream left her mouth instead. Those bastards had blocked her magic and made it so it attacked her like electricity! She felt anger, hot and savage spread throughout her blood. She was pissed.

Her eyes clenched shut as she pushed with all her might at the person penning her down, flinging her head back and feeling slightly satisfied at the sickening crack the echoed throughout the camp.

She shot up to her feet, elbowing her capture in the gut while she was at it.

"What the fuck Dean?" she shouted, her eyes full of betrayal as she glared at the boy she dated way back when in school.

That was when she noticed it was completely quiet and everyone was staring as her with worry, disgust and even fear. Where as before their were Death Eaters plaguing the grounds it was now only the remainder of the Light that wasn't dead or wounded that stood before her. What in the hell was going on?

"It was a trap you see, to get Dark witches like yourself out in the open and also a drill to prepare our readiness. Those curses little girl are illegal for a reason. It's _evil_. The moment you cast a forbidden spell your magic locked up inside you and exposed you for what you are."

Ginny blinked as the Minister of Magic himself came out of the crowd, Kingsley and Moody right behind him. The hurt she felt in that moment was deep as she scanned the crowd and found that even her own family wouldn't meet her gaze. They instead stared at their feet, ashamed it seemed.

But of her or their own betrayal, she didn't know.

She blinked and than began to laugh, a hysterical, heart breaking laugh as the people she once considered friends and family began to surround her because one man told them she was evil.

It didn't matter that she had saved them, helped them, even grew up with most of them. Hell with the way Kingsley was looking at her now, his wand drawn, you would never know that he watched her grow up.

And Harry, he looked her right in the eye with sadness and a small apologetic smile just as he did when they broke up but he didn't stand to her defense. No one stood to her defense...and not one person looked surprised.

They betrayed her, talked about her and accused her of things which weren't true. They planned this.

Her bitter smile still stayed even when Moody pushed through the crowd, eyeing her with severe scrutiny.

And then before she could blink his hand was grabbing hers, something hard and small being pushed into them.

"He's been waiting for you Lady Firebird. Blessed Be," Moody whispered before he shoved her hard.

And then something pulled at her navel and she was gone before anyone could blink an eye.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Story is not abandoned!_**

 ** _My editor was giving me a lot of issues, so I apologize for any typos. I will go over it again, but if you see any big ones send me a message! Thank you! Hope you enjoy the story and sorry for the wait._**

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 **Chapter Two**

The castle was so tall it appeared to brush against the smoky gray clouds. It could only be explained with one very fitting word; Magical. The stone was strong and ancient, the walls having seen many students walk through its halls throughout the centuries. For every young child it was a dream come true, and for every young adult it became home.

In these dark times, however, the castle became a safe place to hide from the nightmares that reality wrought.

The once bustling halls full of the next generation's laughter were now grim and eerily silent as the war stretched further throughout the lands. It could no longer be ignored or denied. A revolution has taken place, a civil war among the magical folk and creatures.

Albus Dumbledore was a powerful, wise wizard, despite his unknown age( _that_ , he kept close to his heart along with many secrets from his youth.)

Many pondered why such an iconic wizard (he defeated Grindelwald after all) was merely sitting on the sidelines, playing Headmaster when his attention would be best put to use elsewhere.

Surely _he_ could put a stopper to the Dark Lord just as he did the last one.

The answer to that question however was another secret he kept close to his heart, and it was one that he was careful to not reveal.

It however was no secret that Cornelius Fudge hated Albus Dumbledore with a mighty passion. Any help the old wizard tried to give was jilted, but that was at the start of the war some odd years back.

Surely the Ministry would welcome his help _now_.

The teachers and students eyed the eccentric wizard as he whistled down the halls, smiling and seemingly oblivious of the horrors outside the stone walls. Many frowned at his royal purple robes, little yellow ducks decorating them and contrasting greatly with the gloom that had taken over the castle.

The friendly sparkle in his knowing blue eyes was disarming for Albus Dumbledore was not sitting idly by doing nothing. Oh no, he was more involved than anyone realized and had been since the very beginning.

He was the leader of the Order of the Phoenix who was ingrained so deeply in the Light side that he was truly the one in charge, not Fudge. He pulled the strings and watched from the distance until it was time for him to step in.

The ministry was going to fall and like a phoenix Albus Dumbledore was going to rise from the ashes, a beacon of light among the helpless and the afraid.

He had been called manipulative in his younger years, but everything he does and did is for the greater good, the _Light_. No one knew better than him how poisoning Dark Magic can be. It whispers to you, calls to you, and warps your mind until you are no longer human.

Tom Riddle, or as he liked to call himself these days, _Lord Voldemort_ , was a perfect example of that.

Tom was a brilliant boy, if not a bit dark, but Dumbledore had high hopes for him. He excelled at all kinds of magic, but he thrived the most in the darkest kinds.

It was unnatural and best banned and unlearned, with that he agreed with the Ministry wholeheartedly.

He also felt that the Ministry was _corrupt,_ and with that he could not blame Tom for his ambitions to take it down.

But...

What Tom wants is pure anarchy, chaos. Werewolves, Veela, Vampires; all dark creatures would roam the street at large when they should be monitored and watched closely. Witches and Wizards would expose themselves to Muggles. Magic would be done freely, no restrictions.

It would be the end of them all.

Who's to say Muggles won't be tortured, used as slaves? Who's to say Muggleborn's won't be massacred due to prejudiced? Who's to stop Voldemort from killing anyone who get's in his way?

Surely he would not give up his seat of power.

That much power was dangerous, and that was where Dumbledore directed his attention. It was not merely fighting on the front lines, it was also a game of politics. Just his name got him an army, but he planned to restructure the wizarding world when it became time for him to physically intervene.

Right now too many would not be receptive to his plans, but soon they would all understand that it was truly for the greater good;

That it was for the Light.

So he continued to whistle down the halls because he was not afraid of the outcome of the war.

In Times of War, one mustn't panic after all, and he had no reason to because Lord Voldemort's time was borrowed.

Tom Riddle may have an army...

But Albus Dumbledore had Harry Potter, and the boy was all he needed to win.

~W~W~W~

Streets that were once thriving with life and excited children were now barren, the vibrant stores closed or burned to the ground. In the air, the smell of smoke threatened to choke her, random parts still coated in thick, black soot.

Ginny remembered getting her books in the shop over there, and her robes in the one over there. She remembered staring at the broomsticks she could never afford, and a little later on admiring her twin brothers eccentric shop which was now just as run down at the rest of Diagon Alley. The war had tainted a magical place full of hopes and dreams. She realized that this was just a physical representation of all of them.

Damaged, tainted; abandoned of all hope.

Or maybe it was just a representation of _her_.

She closed her eyes and lifted her head, her body still kneeling on the ground from where she fell. The people she loved, the people who were supposed to love her, betrayed her. No one stood up for her. No one bothered to try. They all viewed her as evil just because of the type of magic that sprang forth without her even thinking twice.

She tried to think of when dark magic had first called to her, but couldn't pull up a specific memory. Was Voldemort right, or just a tyrant like she had been taught her whole life? Is dark and light magic just a part of your signature core, a part of you that is there when you're born?

She let out an unladylike snort as she opened her oddly blank eyes, opening her right fist to see the amber golden ring that the Mad-Eye Moody impostor (because the real one would never have let her go) had used as a portkey. It was simple at first glance, but upon further inspection she could see fine detailed lines carved inside it It was quite beautiful if she were being honest, and Ginny had never been one for jewelry.

Even though portkey's were supposed to only work once, she could still feel strong magical signatures coming from it. It was a familiar warm feeling, the magic licking at her skin like it could feel just how worn down she was.

She was confused, lost somewhere between disbelief and anger. It left her empty, unable to express anything at all. She was without her magic, without her family, without her friends; what next?

She seemed to sink further down for a moment, looking like a lost child before her spine straightened, her mind centered, and her face smoothed out into a mask of cool remoteness.

She rose her to feet like the elegant warrior she _truly_ was and forced herself to think, to remember the last few seconds of chaos before she was sent to the abandoned streets of Diagon Alley.

 _He's been waiting for you,_ the Mad-Eye Moody impersonator said before he shoved the ring into her hand.

 _ **Who**_ _is waiting for me?_ she wondered.

With sharp eyes, she examined the burned down buildings and cracked cobblestone streets, looking for anything out of place. She didn't have her wand or her magic. All she had was her wit and quick mind.

That was the only thing that saved her from a nasty fire curse, her reflexes throwing her out of the way just in time. She winced when her magic flared, shocking her from the inside out, but she didn't let the pain keep her down for long.

She was running, dodging fatal curses and ducking behind ruined buildings. Her mind was in overdrive, her heart pounding in her chest as she focused on survival. Her body was already weakened by battle, her mind exhausted. Without her magic to help her heal and give her extra stamina, she was at a huge disadvantage.

"Come out and play little girly! You can't hide forever!" a man called, his voice deep and Irish accent heavy.

He was right, she knew, but her options were limited. Run until she got caught and be murdered, or fight with no magic and most likely be murdered.

She snorted to herself in inappropriate amusement.

Those weren't very good options...but if she had to choose...

Her eyes zeroed in on a metal pipe, and with a casual shrug that didn't fit the severity of the moment, she quietly picked it up and backed further into the dark alleyway. It was full of large fallen walls and was a tight squeeze even for her, but it would at least buy her some time to think of a way to possibly get out of this alive.

After a moment of carefully placed movements she managed to squeeze herself out of the rubble, though it wasn't without some scratches and bruises. She wasn't back on the street, but was instead in a shop that was just barely standing. The sad part about it was the damage on the inside was so severe she couldn't even tell what shop it was.

She didn't let the thought linger as she listened for any sound outside, her lithe body crouched like a panther as she waited.

It wasn't long before she saw a man, no, a _Death Eater_ , strolling down the destroyed street like he owned it. Right as he passed her, she lunged, swinging up the metal pipe and struck down with a sickening crack.

He fell.

She didn't pay the masked Death Eater any more attention as she checked her surroundings and entered the streets once more. She didn't make it more than two steps before she felt a warm piece of wood poke her neck, her body freezing painfully.

"Impressive, Lady Firebird. But remember, my Death Eaters are never alone."

She shivered all the way down to her toes, unable to stop herself as a deep voice, smooth like the finest silk, whispered into her ear.

Ignoring the odd intimacy of the moment Ginny stood tall, squaring her shoulders despite the wand placed against her neck.

Her vision was blurry and her body ached. Not having her magic was taking its toll.

The magic rolling off the being behind her threatened to make her faint from the pure power he was displaying. His magic wrapped around her like a cocoon, making her brain fuzzy and skin tingle.

He was holding back.

"Voldemort," she whispered, her voice somehow steadier than she was feeling.

He hummed, his warm lips brushing against her ear. "I haven't heard my name spoken in quite some time. You must be very brave...or very foolish, Little Firebird.

"I won't fear a name," she shot back, fully prepared to fight him at every turn if she had to.

He chuckled, the sound sending fear down her spine.

Her magic was trapped, out of her reach, and she was alone with the Dark Lord. After all the battles she fought, all of the near death experiences she avoided, was this how she was going to die?

She hoped she'd at least get to take a bunch of Death Eater bastards down with her. What a let down...

The pressure from the wand pressing against her neck was suddenly gone, making Ginny's back tense in anticipation. There was no sound other than the gentle breeze, but energy was crackling in the air.

The calm before the storm.

Her body shot to the right on instinct, her long, lean, limbs folding into a practiced roll as she narrowly avoided a curse she didn't recognize. Before she could look behind her fully, another curse was sailing her way.

Once again, she was running for her life.

"Think, Lady Firebird. You do not have your magic or your wand. All you have is your mind and the will to survive. What will you do when you can no longer run away?"

A hiss left her lips when something hit her right leg, grazing across it as she went to duck inside a barely standing building. She paid no attention to the pain as she maneuvered through the rubble, gritting her teeth.

She thought over his words, her eyes narrowed as she carefully and silently bent down under a fallen wall.

She needed a moment to regroup and think. He was bigger than her, so it was going to take him some time to get to her without taking down the whole building.

She hoped he wouldn't...

It seemed almost as if he was testing her instead of hellbent on killing her. Something was going on, something that had been in works for some time. Whoever was pretending to be Mad-Eye was in on it and sent her to Voldemort.

The question was why?

With a frown, she took the ring out of her pocket and spun it in her hand. This was the ring that got her here...but it was unnaturally warm. It still held some magical property's, but it wasn't supposed to.

Maybe...

She slid the ring onto her ring finger, the previously warm metal slowly going cold like the warmth was being drained from it. She furrowed her eyebrows, confused, before understanding finally hit her.

A wide smile broke across her sweaty, slightly red face.

She glanced down at her leg, examining the burnt flesh on her calf and feeling grateful for the dark blue shorts she was wearing instead of pants. Brushing the wound off, she stood, a goal now in mind.

There was no apparating inside Diagon, and all the floo networks were shut down years ago. She needed a wand, and lucky for her, she knew where to get one.

She quietly began to move, having been in her hiding spot for five minutes too long already. For whatever reason he was giving her a chance to plan her next move, and she wasn't about to waste it. She wasn't going to die a defenseless child.

She crawled through a tight space, ignoring the protesting of her arms and lungs as she gently lowered herself to the ground. And then she was off, going back the way she came.

It was still as if the world itself was holding its breath, no sign of Death Eaters or Voldemort anywhere, but she knew better than to let down her guard. She kept to the building ruins, staying low and moving as fast as she dared to with her injured leg. Her energy was draining fast, and if she survived, she was going to be comatose for days.

Her eyes zeroed in on the Death Eater she knocked out earlier. He however was out in the open, and going to him was asking to be killed. Seeing very little options, she took a deep breath and examined her surrounding's from her hiding place before carefully entering the street. Here she was completely exposed, but she didn't waver as she crouched down by the Death Eater.

By his right hand lay a cherry wood wand, and with one more careful look around she grabbed it. It was instantaneous, her magic bursting from her body from being bottled up for so long.

It was like an empty part of her was being filled and a weight had been lifted from her body.

She quickly got off the main street, but not before making sure the Death Eater couldn't join the hunt.

" _Internum Somno_ ," she muttered under her breath, a wicked smirk marring her pretty face as the large man was engulfed by a light purple mist that seemed to settle right on top of him.

He was going to spend quite a long time trapped inside a recurring nightmare that could end up scaring him to the point of death.

With little to no regard for the wizard's life she continued on with plan two.

Get the hell out of Diagon Alley.

Going to the wall that leads to the Leaky Cauldron was a suicide mission without a doubt, but it was the only way Ginny could get out. If she could get into Muggle London than she could apparate from there.

Of course, with the entire Wizarding community at war there was no safe place for her to go.

One crisis at a time.

Her body and mind was on high alert, the silence and empty streets around her causing the hair on the back of her arms to stand. When she reached the wall that now looked a little worse for wear and was stained black, she knew she was being tested somehow.

This was too easy.

What was waiting for her on the other side of the wall? Did she really have any other options?

With deadly determination, she tapped her borrowed wand on the bricks, and watched as the they sluggishly moved like it was going to collapse at any moment.

The Leaky Cauldron was completely empty.

"What the hell is going on?" Ginny mumbled as she limped into the abandoned building, quick eyes examining the filthy room and the destroyed table and chairs.

She made her way outside into busy London and ducked back into an alley, away from the Muggles.

She closed her eyes and let out the breath she didn't know she was holding as a single tear fell from her eyes. What was she going to do now? Where could she go? Her friends and family had turned on her.

The best thing for her to do was to fall off the map completely.

She gathered her magic and pictured the beach that she used to go to with her family. It was as far as she could go without a floo network or the Ministry being able to track her down.

The best way to describe apparating is like being sucked down a tube, a feeling that she hated. She much preferred flying on a broom. It was hard to breathe until you got to your destination, and it always felt like something was pressing on her lungs.

When she got to her destination, she took a greedy breath of air, her body aching and feeling nauseous. The smell of the sea always made her feel centered, and she needed that desperately.

Only...she didn't smell fresh air OR the ocean water.

Her eyes snapped open as horror overtook her.

She was standing back in Diagon Alley, exactly where she started.

"Welcome back, Lady Firebird. We have much to discuss."


End file.
